Harry Potter and the Realm of Dungeons and Dragons
by Shadenight123
Summary: A dwarf cleric miscasts a miracle for some barrels of beer. Harry, age six, is chosen and taken to the Material Plane. Now at thirty-one, Archduke and powerful axe wielding warrior of might and magic, he finds with his fellow adventurers a mirror that acts like a portal and is connected to the veil. What world will he end up choosing in the end? D&D crossover. Adult Harry.
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter and the realm of Dungeons and Dragons.

It was a beautiful morning in Privet Drive. The sun shined over the immaculately clean rooftops and green luscious gardens. The wind blew a soft tune through the branches of the hedgerows, similar to whistling. The sunflowers in Madam Dursley's vases were all turning their necks to see the sun, while from within the kitchen Harry could hear her voice start to hum a soft tune. She did that every time she cleaned the table. He knew the woman's name was Petunia, but it wasn't as if he had permission to use it. She was Madam, just like Mr. Dursley was to be called Mister, and just like Dudley was the one who could hit him with impunity.

He should have thought it wrong, but it was how life had always been for him after all, so he believed it the norm. On the positive note was that Mr. Dursley tended to go to 'work' for most of the morning and the afternoon, and that did make him happy. The man was always yelling at him every time he was in his sights and albeit he always raised his hand it wasn't as if he had hit him with it. He'd probably end up being called soon, considering it was nearly time for Dudley's afternoon snack. Harry needed to prepare the bacon after all, Madam Dursley didn't like to clean the grease from the pans, and so it was he who had to do both the cooking and the cleaning.

It did make sense though: he was apparently a really costly boy, so he was grateful they had found a way for him to repay their graciousness in taking him in. Sure, maybe the cupboard was starting to get a bit small, but he did have some toys in there. Sometimes he found them near the cracks in the hedgerows with the Dursley's neighbor, Miss Figgs. The old cranky woman had a lot of cats, but she was harmless as long as he kept himself out of her garden to hide from Dudley and his gang.

_Material Plane, Moradin's Temple._

"For Moradin! Where's the damn barrel of beer!?" A portly dwarf with a long trimmed black beard yelled out loud, his voice echoing through the massive stone walls of Moradin's temple. He was wearing a full armor decked in the God of Dwarves symbols, a massive steel Dwarven War Axe on his back, and apparently, he was lacking a drink.

"Shut up Thordrek! Bjorn didn't provide!?" An elderly dwarf exclaimed, flinging a stone tablet at the armored paladin of Moradin. "Get out of here and grab a few then!"

"Can't!" Thordrek yelled back, "Bjorn's dry! You'd think she'd have the golden nectar of the god at this hour in the night, but she's got the cellars empty!"

"What?! It's only three in the morning for Moradin! She can't be without beer at three in the morning! It's blasphemy!" The elder dwarf yelled back. He rose from his chair, his clerical robes billowing as he moved with a strength not normal for one his age towards the altar of the temple. Behind the altar, a statue of Moradin stood with a perplexed expression, one hand wielding the giant hammer and the other the giant axe, both made of the finest marble available and etched with golden symbols. The stone beard of the statue held golden bands and its armor was made of colored steel plates.

"OH MORADIN! Forger of Dwarves! Destroyer of the orc blight! Supreme deity of the pantheon! Heed the call of the humblest of your servants!" The old dwarf began.

"You sure about it Tolomir!? I know the city's going to be without beer for a few days, but do you have to call the big boss?" Thordrek pointed out anxiously. The city of Mordunkas stood on the far edge of the mountain rim, furthest away from the capital of Morhadhun, the jewel of the dwarves. Still, Moradin was usually a jolly good fellow: he was pissed off only sometimes, and most of the time a good frosty beer solved the problem.

They were without beer to begin with though, so Thordrek just hoped everything would be fine.

"Shush it! Stop being such a baby Thordrek! The supreme god Moradin will bring us a solution to our problems! The weed shall not prevent us from drinking the hops' nectar! We shall feast our eyes upon the barrels of mead and beer and everyone shall know us in fame just like the prophesized one!"

The next moment, a flash of light blinded them both.

_Moradin's home plane._

He had a headache, and someone was calling. Being a supreme deity had its perks, mind you. You could alter reality itself around you, making for interesting stuff and near outright invincibility, but at the same time it had its negative side. One was that you had to be listening to whatever any single being said when your name was in the sentence. So 'Moradin' was pretty much a common thing for the dwarves. They used his name in exclamations, insults, curses, spells, conjuring and offerings…He had put down his feet on naming cities after him or infants. He had enough about being called at least five thousand times an _hour_ without having to add more to the count and risk not being the one called to begin with.

"_Moradin! Give me the strength to defeat your foes!" _

"Alright, divine favor to the cleric in the orcs' camp." He mumbled, blinking his eyes as he saw one of his cleric smash the head of a pretty big orc to pulp with a warhammer.

"_Moradin! Grant me the wisdom to see through deceits!"_

"Merchant? Oh well why not." The god muttered, snapping his fingers as the Dwarven merchant used a scroll to see through the Nystul Aura on a fake magic spell. The guards weren't pleased with the lying gnome…Moradin diverted his attention away from the scene after a few minutes, the headache was getting worse.

"_OH MORADIN! Forger of Dwarves! Destroyer of the orc blight! Supreme deity of the pantheon! Heed the call of the humblest of your servants!_" Moradin groaned, not another one!

"Why do they have to put all the appellatives? It's not like it changes things…well, maybe…"

"_A baby…"_

"Eh?" Moradin blinked. Did one of his clerics ask for a baby of all things? What did he have to do with a baby!?

"_The supreme god Moradin will bring us a solution to our problems!" _

"What is your problem then!?" Moradin exclaimed irate, what indeed would need a baby of all things to solve a problem!?

"_The weed shall not prevent us from drinking the hops' nectar!"_

"So you need what, a baby that is weeding?" Maybe they needed a young elf? Elves were pansies so there was probably an elf kid somewhere who could do the work. Or maybe a human boy? A dwarf gardener? There weren't any dwarven gardeners that he knew of…and he was the god of dwarves to begin with! 

"_We shall feast our eyes upon the barrels of mead and beer."_

"You're starting to lose me, connection's breaking and all!" Moradin muttered angrily. Why couldn't they just get to the point!? He needed a bit more than a 'baby that is weeding'. He grumbled in irritation as he moved his ear closer to the surface.

"_And everyone shall know…" _The spell was actually finished there. Moradin growled angrily.

"That's it: I'm going down there in avatar form!" He yelled, starting to descend just as his ears caught the last words.

"…_the prophesized one!"_

Moradin sighed stopping in mid-descent, before reappearing up in his room. His hand shot through time and space and planes as he queried for a prophesized one baby that was a weed puller. This was far easier to find out. Couldn't they have come out with it sooner!?

_Privet Drive_

Harry pulled out a weed. The next moment a giant steel covered index and thumb grabbed him. The next split second, he was no longer in his aunt garden, pulling out weeds. He was standing on a stone altar, the weed still firmly tucked in his closed fist, as two stocky and bearded individuals looked at him in awe.

_Moradin's Temple_

Thordrek blinked. He rubbed his brown eyes, hoping this was some sort of hallucination. He then turned and looked at Tolomir, before yelling out loud.

"THAT'S NOT BEER YOU IDIOT!" The dwarven tongue came out as a set of lashing words that frightened Harry, who had no idea what the dwarves were talking about.

"How curious!" Tolomir exclaimed, "This must be a sign of…"

"THE BEER!" Thordrek yelled again, "Get the damn beer over here or…"

"Calm down Thordrek," Tolomir snapped back, eying him badly. "You're scaring the child." He commented, his gaze returning to the scared human boy who was apparently shivering in fright and…cold. They were after all high on the mountain, and the temple didn't have much warmth, what with the lack of magma and all.

"I'll get the boy a cloak and something to eat: he's too skinny. You sure you didn't get a poor sod off the material plane?" Thordrek grumbled as he moved towards the back of the temple, where Tolomir kept his liquor stash, his food stash, his tablet porn stash and of course the rest of the unimportant furniture and clothes.

"Grab me the Spitfire while you're at it Thordrek! I need some alcohol in me!"

Thordrek rummaged through the various drawers and cabinets, before coming out with a thick wool cloak and a clay jug. In his mouth he was holding with his teeth the sides of a glass bottle that Tolomir quickly grabbed from him to uncork before pouring a finger of it in the jug...and drinking the rest.

"Bwah! This is the stuff." Tolomir's cheeks turned slightly reddish, as Thordrek grumbled again about the unfairness of it all. He was about to grab the jug, when the cleric took it from him and roughly handed it over to the boy in question, who grabbed it by reflex more than anything else.

"What's your name boy?" Tolomir tried in common.

_Harry_

He didn't know in what tongue the two men were talking, but one of them was all dressed up in metal, while the other was wearing a robe of all things. He did seem to be in a church though. He had been in a church before, for an exorcism. They had travelled quite a bit away from Privet Drive for that too. He didn't know where they had ended up, but the priest had looked at him kindly and after giving him a cookie he had sent him back in the car as he had a talk to do with his aunt and uncle.

The older looking of the two men handed over to him a jug with some water in it. He smiled: sure, he had no idea where he was but this was probably a church since they were giving him stuff. The other man dropped a heavy cloak on his back that nearly sent him on the ground. It was heavy! The burly bearded man patted his back strongly while laughing and he smiled back even though he had no idea what they were saying.

The old man began to speak in different languages. He looked at him perplexed the more the tongues changed, and so Harry in the end spoke in his own…

"Where am I?"

With those words, the old man sighed and lowered his shoulders as if to signify defeat. The younger one instead laughed and went over to a library, before returning with a thick wool scroll.

The old dwarf pronounced few words as the scroll burned up in ashes, making Harry reel back in shock and stare in fright at the scene.

The small man brought his hand forward, gently lowering it on his own as he finally spoke clearly in English.

"Can you hear me?"

"Uh? Yes! Yes I can!" He replied excitedly.

"Good! Where are you from?" The man asked, and Harry found himself thinking about it.

"Privet Drive Number four!" He said with a beaming smile. Maybe it was just like that one time when Dudley had chased him and he had ended up disappearing in a tree! Only this time he had ended up in a church somewhere a bit further away…maybe he was in France? Were they talking French?

"How old are you, boy?" The priest asked.

"I'm this much!" Harry replied, showing five fingers in one hand and one more in his other.

"My you're a grown up lad then! What is your name?" The old man asked after saying something in that strange tongue to the other one.

"Harry sir, Harry Potter."

"Harry sir Harry Potter? Sir Harry Potter!?" The priest apparently turned sharply to the other one and said something scalding, since the metal dressed man nodded and ran out quickly.

"Harry," he replied with a nod.

"Harry…I am Tolomir. Warrior-Priest of Moradin, god of Dwarves." The man said again.

"Dwarves?" Harry asked curious.

"Dwarves." The man replied pointing at himself. "I'm a Dwarf, forged by the earth and iron of the mountains by our god, Moradin the wielder of axe and hammer!"

"Oh." So he was in a church of Moradin. He hoped it wasn't far away from England though. There was no way he'd get back home for Dudley's afternoon snack, but he could still manage to cook dinner.

"I need to go back." He said, as Tolomir nodded.

"We're working on it." The Warrior-Priest replied, "You know the name of the kingdom you come from?"

"England." Harry replied quickly. He knew that, his teacher had even praised him for having been first in answering the question in his class!

"Fuck." The old dwarf mumbled, wincing his eyes closed for a moment probably lost in recollection. He opened them again and shook his head.

"Uh?" Harry asked curiously.

"Damn, uh, oh…nothing!" The dwarf removed his hand from Harry's head, before starting to say something really bad in his native tongue as he headed over the library, but he didn't catch half of it since the tongue was so strange: raspy and guttural.

Harry said nothing. Still, he sniffed a bit the water in the jug. It had a strange smell, but after taking a sip of it…why was the church spinning?

_Tolomir_

As the boy fell down like a Kobold being hit by a heavy ballista's bolt, Tolomir growled.

"Of course the idiot had to distract me during my prayer. Moradin the almighty probably decided this was the right way to bring some sense back into the man…" The cleric groaned.

"No use standing here doing nothing!" The dwarf exclaimed to no-one in particular, "Time to find a book on this England place!" And if that didn't work, he'd have to ask a Goliath to ask a human to ask someone from the tower of Boccob down in the capital.

And if even those guys didn't know…

Well, there was a church-monastery of Pelor down below at the base of the mountain…he could leave the boy there if the Dwarven life wasn't for the small scrawny thing. Sure, he could use an extra pair of hands around, but Moradin didn't grant his powers to those who weren't dwarves, so…

_Magical England_

Albus Dumbledore was many things. He was the Supreme Mugwump. He was the defeater of Grindelwald. He was the only man Tom Riddle ever feared. He was that and much more, but he was also human. He was popping a lemon drop in his mouth when the strange mechanical thing meant to control the status of the wards in Privet Drive suddenly spun like mad.

The old wizard blinked in surprise, before disappearing with a sharp crack from his office. He reappeared with his robes and his wand ready in his hand, already fearing the worst. Privet Drive was unscathed and untouched however, and he could smell the perfume of food being cooked. So maybe the wards had just registered someone trying to enter? He walked to the door and politely knocked.

Petunia Dursley opened the door with a sharp jerk motion, standing with her lips tightly closed and her eyes angry.

"What is it?" She stopped for a moment, seeing the Headmaster of Hogwarts, before slamming the door shut in his face. "Get out! You promised you freaks wouldn't come!"

"Madam Dursley." Albus began slowly to speak, "Where is your nephew?"

"That's…He's in the garden, pulling out weeds." Petunia retorted from behind the door. "You want him now then take him." She hastily added.

"Nonsense my dear, I will just check on him then." Dumbledore replied with a light tone, as he began to walk around the house looking for Harry Potter. He saw some weeds pulled and laying on the grass near a few well cured hedgerows and small flowerbeds filled with flowers. When he didn't find him, however, he returned to the door to knock again.

"What is it now!?" Petunia shrieked from behind the door. Dumbledore was starting to get a bit contrite actually, but only just a bit. Certainly the woman could avoid making such a scene!

"I'm afraid young Harry is not in the garden, has he gone to any of his friends perhaps?" He asked with care.

"The freak doesn't need any friends." The sour woman replied.

"Oh Petunia, Petunia…What did I ask of you years ago? You were not forced and…"

The door sprung open nevertheless, as the woman pointed her accusing finger at the old man.

"Not forced!? Do you know what the people would have said had I delivered a baby to the hospital? To the orphanage? What do you think!? Of course I was forced to keep him! And if he's not in the garden then I don't care! He'll go without dinner for having skipped his chores!"

"Surely you jest…"

"No! And if he ran away then so be it! He's all yours!"

Dumbledore left the house with a bitter after taste in his tongue. He wasn't perfect and he knew it, but had he done so much wrong that the boy, at age six, would run away? Maybe he had been mistreated? What if the Dursley had actually abused the poor lad? He shook his head firmly: it wouldn't do to accuse people of such vile acts without proof after all. He'd need to talk with Ms. Figgs and arrange to have the house looked after with a bit more of a presence. The boy would hopefully come back before nightfall, and once he did he'd make sure he was at the very least treated like a boy his age.

If he wasn't, then he'd have no choice but to bring the boy to Hogwarts. Minerva would probably fuss about how right she had been on that night, but the blood wards had been a necessity after all: without them Harry would have probably ended up just like Neville's parents.

Still, he hoped for the boy to come back. At the very least, if it came out that he had indeed been mistreated, he needed to make amends. He hoped the boy would listen.

_Some years later – 31 of October, 1989_

Severus Snape was looking at the tombstone of the Potter family, albeit for him the only thing he actually cared about was a single name on that tomb: Lily's. He left a few flowers of the same name on her grave, before slowly starting to walk away. He did this every single year, disapparating from Hogwarts where the dunderheads he taught were with the blessing of the Headmaster and headed here to pay his respects. He had done much wrong in his life, and he knew it of course. He had hoped he could at least repent somehow by protecting Lily's child…but the boy had disappeared four years before.

He kept teaching students, in the sheer hope that in one year, the letter from Hogwarts would find the boy and bring him back. He had already prepared the broom actually, as had the Headmaster. They'd follow the owl to its destination. It was he began to walk away, his feet taking him to Godric's Hollow, that he heard a scream.

He stilled as his wand was already in his hand before he could even think. Its tip pointed towards the grave. Surely the scream hadn't…The scream came again, from within the tomb. Was it a ghoul? Had a ghoul managed to enter the rest place of Lily and then get trapped in there?

He looked around before bringing the tip of his wand to where the grave was, before slowly moving it and removing the earth around the coffin. Quietly, ever so, he heard the scratching noises coming from within the wooden thing…He nervously gulped down as he now heard the screams more clearly. They were words! Words from a voice he dreaded to recognize.

Was this it? Had he gone mad?

He unlocked with his wand the coffin, and stood back in wait and fear.

When Lily Potter emerged from the coffin, ragged looking and scared senseless, Severus Snape had no words.

"Sev?" She asked. She, Lily, asked him. "What…What are you doing here?" She was talking to him. She hadn't talked to him since that dreadful day years before. Now she was talking to him. She was alive, she…no. This could be a curse. A really dark one…unless he was dreaming, but then again…

"Sev!" The red haired woman exclaimed, "Why are you making that face? It's as if you've seen a…" The woman turned her head to look at the tombstone. _The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death._ The statue of her, her husband and her son stood in sight just like their names on the stone. "Ghost." She whispered, looking at her hands. "No, I'm not…I'm not dead. Sev? Sev what did you do?"

He found his breath there and then, he found it when the tone of the woman turned accusing, he found it when the voice of the woman he loved and still loved accused him of having done something.

"I did nothing. I heard you scream." He curtly snapped, "After all, Madam Potter," he sneered, "Today is the anniversary of your husband's and yours death. I just came to pay my homage." He was even going to turn and leave, but something stopped him. With a flick of his wand the dirt and the ground around James' tomb was removed, and with another flick the coffin was opened. The body of James Potter stood there, strangely pale but undoubtedly breathing.

"And apparently, someone decided to bring you both back to life." Severus muttered. Of course this was no dream. It had to be a nightmare.

"James!" Lily yelled as she wobbly got out of her coffin and walked towards her husband. He averted his gaze and conjured a patronus. He needed to warn Dumbledore after all. The old man would take care of it better than him as he had more pressing business for the night: he had to get smashed on firewhiskey. Probably an entire bottle just to be sure he would forget everything about this dreadful night.

_31 of July 1991 – Seventh Month of sun, Year 20134 of the Pelorian Calendar_

Archduke-Ollam Harry Potter, chosen of the Indifferent God Boccob himself, renowned master of the Bloody Arena, demon burner and axe wielder, was tired. Wielding his dwarven war-axe Bjorn he looked with haunted eyes at the blood covered and bloated figure of an undead monster. Filled with blood and bloated, it bled like a pig no matter where it was hit. The Necromancer that had brought to un-life said monsters looked with a bright smile as one of his companions fell under the heavy bulk of the biggest of his creations.

"This is." One of the heads beneath the creature's mantle spoke, "Your end." The Hooded Pupil was an Ettin, and as his hands burst forward sickly green and black colored darts, Harry flicked his left hand forward, countering the spell as the Pelor contemplative in the back finally deemed itself worthy enough of consecrating the area.

"Took you long enough Jozan!" The bard Gimble exclaimed as his song filled hope in the hearts of the adventurers.

"Me now breaks!" Krusk roared as he charged forward, his giant double orc axe swinging wildly as the barbarian struck through the flesh of the undead, a downpour of blood drenching the half-orc down to his toes. Harry groaned. It took days to convince the barbarian to wash himself: they'd have to live with the stench of rotten blood for most of the week again!

Vadania the druid whispered in Sylvan tongue as a giant celestial bear appeared from the air, roaring as it pummeled to the ground the Hooded one. The Ettin's strong arms broke free of the beast's grasp in the blink of an eye, tearing through the flesh of the bear as Harry took his cue to charge. His strength increased through the Critical Strike swift spell, his first attack tore through the Hooded One's side.

"By the will of the God of Knowledge, die!" Harry roared, his Bjorn twirling in his hand. The second attack cut through the arm of the Hooded pupil, and the third one horizontally cut the creature's chest.

"Argh!" The Ettin coughed out blood as it fell on his knees. "You…You have not won yet, Bloodaxe!" He snarled as his only remaining hand closed into a fist. "I am not…"

An arrow struck through the heads of the Ettin, throwing the creature on the ground to spasm as it died. Harry turned with an upward eye to the ranger in question.

"Soveliss." Harry deadpanned. "Did you really have to…"

"I hate death monologues." The elven ranger replied calmly.

"Is this because of your sister?" Harry retorted.

"No, of course not." The elf replied with a shrug, although he kind of did throw the arrow on his bow near a corpse that was just so casually near him.

"You know, if I had known _what_ the spell was for."

"Oh? I thought the chosen of the God of Knowledge would know _everything_." Soveliss bitterly commented, before heading over the draped window of the ruined fortress the Hooded Pupil had held as a base. As light shone into the dark room, and the cold wind came from outside, Harry blinked.

The sun was shining warmly over the pine tops of the cold mountains of Asgalor, the northern Kingdom of the human territories.

"Ah-ah, you're a stick in the mud Soveliss." Vadania replied as she turned to the unlucky fellow that had fallen to the might of a Bloated one. "Poor folk. So, Jozan would you do the honor?"

"It comes out from his side of the loot I suppose." The cleric sighed, "May the warmth of Pelor return you to life, Regdar."

The fallen warrior gasped for air, as it slowly stood up.

"Last time! This is the last time I charge ahead first! Do you know how lucky I am to be alive this time!?"

"You mean…differently from the other times?" Gimble chuckled striking a tune.

"Our young fighter fought to win! Come around and listen me sing! He fought the beasts, fought the trolls, he fought the witches and fought even more! But every time he fought something big…" The bard high-pitched, "He always ended up as a corpse in a ditch! This is the tale of Regdar the warrior, mighty and fiery but also unlucky! He fought and died an even number, always ending up…what rhymes with unlucky?" The gnome asked thoughtfully.

"It lacked a lot…you know?" Harry hesitantly said as he began to ravage through the shelves for books. "When is Lidda coming back?"

"Once she's done doing whatever she had to do with that Alhandra fellow." Vadania replied, as her hands went to look through the ingredients of the Ettin necromancer.

"Shiny stuff!?" Kursk yelled, "SHINY!" The Barbarian exclaimed, his finger pointing to a mirror that was glowing a bright silver light.

"Oh?" Harry and Gimble took three seconds each to get in front of the mirror. It had been hidden by the drape of the window, and that removed…

"Well I'd say…what is this?" Regdar queried, moving closer and huffing.

"Mirror…Mirror…" Gimble began to think hard… "I've got nothing on it."

"There's a Portal spell on it." Harry replied. "It's a bit…wait, it's out of proportions…It kills anyone who goes through with a disintegrate spell…who the hell thought it funny?" The man muttered. "So, if we remove the disintegration…Ah-ha!" The Archduke smiled as he nimbly weaved the counter-spell. "Done!"

The grey-like waves cleared, to show a marble hall that seemed to be rising up. On the other side robed figures suddenly barged in the room, yelling something in a strange tongue that Harry however…he knew that tongue.

"Harry: why did you have to open a portal to enemy wizards?" Soveliss groaned, preparing an arrow, as Gimble grabbed his mandolin. Krusk happily grabbed his giant double axe as Regdar groaned with his tower shield ready. Jozan prayed to Pelor for strength as Vadania tightened her grip on the scimitar.

"You think they're Thay Wizards?" Vadania asked.

"Nah, they're not dressed in red: look at it. They're leather armed. Battlemages?" Gimble retconned.

"We go to them or let them come to us?" Jozan queried.

"The portal might be trapped on the other side." Harry retorted, "Better to have them come over here…grab the mirror Krusk, Regdar! We're bringing it back to the keep...I'll put back the Disintegrate spell on it…it's best this way." With a nod of understanding from the others, the mirror returned to its natural grey waving appearance.

"And whatever happens: do not touch it!" He snarled in Krusk direction, "Last time I had to gather all your bits for hours with Jozan!"

"Me knows." Krusk mumbled, "Me not stupid."

_Magical England-Same time_

Dumbledore hesitated, before bringing a pinch of floo powder to the fire, and calling for Potter Manor.

The face of Lily Potter, tear stricken and crying, and that of James Potter hard faced, were the first thing he saw. The two of them looked at him with a mixture of surprise, hope but also resentment. They had never forgiven him for what he had done, and even though he knew he probably would never be, he still had to tell them the news.

"I…There's still nothing." The Headmaster said. "The owl hasn't…He hasn't flown anywhere."

"He's…Could he be somewhere in wards?" Lily whispered hoarsely.

"It is possible," Dumbledore admitted, "But for wards more powerful than Hogwarts own magic…"

"Voldemort." James hissed. "He…"

"That is not possible." Albus replied, "Severus hasn't…"

"What Snivellus has…" The Potter head began angrily, only to stop once Lily's hand went to tighten her grasp on his arm.

"Fine." James huffed, "Unless there's nothing new, Albus…"

The Headmaster shook his head and bid his farewell, before returning in his office. He was looking out of the window with a sad gaze, when the silver doe of Severus' patronus reached his office.

"The owl is moving! I'm following! It's headed towards the Ministry!" The potions' master voice was filled with anxiousness through the Patronus, and Dumbledore suddenly jerked away from the window and back to the fire. His face came to view once more the scene, albeit now the two Potters were hugging one another.

"Albus!?" James exclaimed in surprise at seeing the Headmaster twice in such little time.

"The owl moved! Severus is pursuing it! Head to the ministry!"

And within seconds, they were all heading out.

_Thunder Keep, Edge of Absalom_

"Open the gates!" A servant's voice echoed through the gatehouse, as the incoming party was recognized as that of the ruler of the keep that was at the head of the party, on a bright brown tinted horse, while a cart with the covered mirror stood on the back of the procession. The gates were opened and the bridge was lowered to pass through the moat infested with water elementals loyal to the ruler of the keep. He paid them in gems after all: they had better be loyal.

Harry descended from his horse, Hazel, and smiled at the sight of his father walking over to greet him. Holding the usual beer tank in hand, Thordrek bellowed a hearty laugh.

"I told the brats you'd be back before the end of the month! They never believe their grandfather do they!?" The next instant, Harry was swarmed with children. None of them were actually his, considering he'd truly have to have had a harem to have them all. A half-orc, an elven girl, two dwarf twins, a pale looking boy and two gnomes had already charged at him, while the halfling scamp was already aiming for his pockets.

"Calm down you lot!" He exclaimed laughing. He was thirty-one years old after all: his father insisted he marry, but he knew better than to try. Not that he couldn't find a woman, considering the offers that kept on coming…but he just didn't want to marry and worry about convenience or if he was really loved or not. For the kids, he had seen too many war torn areas during the secession wars, and those he could save he had.

There was Margaret, the one hundred years old girl who was just then going through her first crushes. There was Kelvin, the Half-Orc who insisted he had sorcerer blood in him and would show them all how he would become a great magic user. The Twins were named Tolomir and Bosfar, and they actually were some sort of long distant cousins who had ended up with Thordrek, and by consequence him too, after their parents death in the Kobolds' wars.

The pale boy was Henry, and he had found him after a Bugbear razing party had sold into slavery the rest of his village. It was the only time his visit in the underworld had been fruitful for something different than delivering vengeful retribution. The drows had increased the bounty of his head by a few zeros since last time, but it had been worth it.

The two gnomes were Fizzsprocket and Trixy, more than finding them he had heard them after their parents workshop had exploded in the middle of the day. Since they had no relatives, he had taken them in.

The halfling scamp was Deftfingers, an 'independent' halfling child who hadn't been adopted…He just followed him around and just so casually lived in his keep. Harry smiled as the set of heads and arms flailing at him as he ruffled hair and pinched cheeks. The horde of kids followed him around like ducks most of the time, and so…

"Have my little ducklings been good during my absence, father?"

A chorus of whining and affirmations came from the children, and Thordrek was barely holding his smile hidden by the tankard of ale when the dwarf replied.

"Of course they have! Now, someone did put water in the elf's wine, so I think a well-done gift would be in…"

"Someone put water in my wine!?" Soveliss exclaimed, having heard the dwarf who had practically yelled the sentence to the world. "Who was it!?"

"He did you a favor I suppose." Regdar replied, "Considering you do the same every single time…"

"Really…even I can hold my wine." Vadania rolled her eyes, as she descended from the cart and began speaking with the stable boys about how to move the mirror.

"Mialee is waiting in the library by the way!" Thordrek exclaimed. "Something about a promise not kept?"

Harry wracked his brain around it for a moment, before flinching.

"Oh…the dinner."

"Oh?" The dwarf lifted an eyebrow with a small smile. "Dinner with the elf wizard? Something you ain't telling me kiddo?"

"There's nothing. She's three hundred years old father." Harry whined back as he felt heat rush to his cheeks.

"So I'm an old bat, isn't it?" Thordrek smiled.

"You're a dwarf! Dwarves don't age: they just get stockier!"

"Ah! Good! So I'm the bat then." The female voice that came from behind Harry's back made the boy wince.

"You knew she was behind me, right?" He accused his father who instead just drank from his tankard rather than answer. He did wink in his direction though, before turning to leave while whistling.

"Mialee, you know I can…" Harry began, only to be grabbed by the ear from the elven woman.

"Explain? Oh I will enjoy hearing about it later. For now you have to follow me. We've made a breakthrough on the prismatic wall's effect against the prismatic sphere, and…"

"My lord, where should we put the mirror?" A servant asked, bowing lightly with its head as he interrupted the conversation. Harry mentally jolted down the face of the man: he'd give him a raise just for that.

"In the arcane laboratory," turning to speak to the wizard once more, "Mialee that will have to wait," he hastily said. "There's this mirror. I found it and it might…you know…show the way home."

Mialee stilled for a second, looking at him with worried eyes before briskly muttering.

"You are sure?"

"Yes." He replied with a nod.

"It's not like with the Efreet right?" She added.

"I don't think so." He quickly murmured. "It seemed real and all…"

"You know what I think about it." She whispered. Bringing both her arms crossed in front of her chest.

"If you want to kiss do it somewhere private!" Gimble suddenly exclaimed, butting in on the conversation.

"We're not in a relationship!" They both snapped looking at the bard who merely displayed a lopsided grin before waving them goodbye and heading back inside the keep. He was whistling something eerily similar to the marriage tune though.

The mirror was soon brought down in the laboratory, as Mialee was told everything concerning it. She nodded, her hands already grasping the various reagents to produce the most powerful identifying spells she could cast.

"It might take me some days." She admitted, "Unless you wish to help me?"

"No." Harry admitted sadly. "If…if it's nothing, then I don't want to get burned like last time." He softly whispered the last part, as both his hands went to clap against his cheeks. "Dwarves don't get moody! They get drunk!" He hastily exclaimed to himself.

"Yes," Mialee admitted, "And elves write sad poems."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You write an awful lot of sad poems though."

"Precisely." She replied curtly.

"Is there something…"

"No." She snapped back.

"All right!" Harry raised his hands, "I don't want to…well, no, I actually want to know, but I won't ask for now!" He then turned and walked out of the laboratory, mumbling something about women.

The ducklings took a few minutes before following him, their favorite sport being imitating what he did when he was around. He could keep them out of some rooms, but in the end it was a bother and they knew what not to touch. None of them was actually any more of a child than he had been in his youth. If he told them not to touch the anvil where the dwarf smith worked, then he was sure they'd follow the rule without even asking why.

"Dad! What's the Efreet story about?" Trixy asked with her bright cheeky smile as she jumped to grab a hold of his knee, and exclaiming 'woohoo' every time he moved his leg.

"It's a long story." He replied grabbing the gnome girl and bringing her up on his shoulder. "It starts a long time ago, when I was no more than twenty-one."

"You were already a hero then?" Henry asked curious.

"No!" He replied, "I was a wet behind the ears green like the grass warrior." He mumbled, "I was hired to deliver some goods to another town, got ambushed half-way and lost the cargo. Stupidly I decided to follow the trail." He chuckled, "I was an idiot back then. Always charging head-first and thinking later. Turns out I did a good thing though: got my hands on some really nice equipment from the Hobgoblins, freed a few prisoners and got Krusk's loyalty." He opened the door to the dining hall, where the half-orc barbarian was messily eating roasted pork with his bare hands.

"Sometimes I think he's a god sent, other times I wonder if he's actually a punishment to my larder." He laughed heartily. "The Hobgoblins had stolen some shipments also from a wizard, so along the way we went to deliver them back. Mialee was an apprentice of said wizard. She joined with us when her master offered her services to us for the job done." He shrugged, "She was probably nagging him for decades to get out of the woods. Probably." He added hastily.

"We began to walk along the road and next thing you know Gimble decided to join us."

_All hail the Gnome bard! All Hail the Gnome bard!_

_Cause he sings of riches and he sings of retards!_

_All hail the singer for his words ring trueeee!_

_All hail the bard for he's a stealer of virtue!_

_All hail the bard for he lights the air!_

_All hail the bard for he has wondrous hair!_

_All hail, all hail, all hail the bard!_

_All sing, and sing, and sing for the bard!_

_And if he sings well, then you should know!_

_Throw to him your money, or you'll lose it, so you know!_

_All hail the…_

"Yes." Harry commented, "I still miss the silent nights since then. But he did get us out of a lot of sticky situations," he whispered, "Don't tell him that though: he already has a big enough head as it is."

His ducklings giggled, and so as he sat down near the fire of the hall with them sitting nearby, he continued his tale.

"Then we reached the town of Teren, and met with Jozan who joined us because Pelor told him to follow the Thunder-Marked," he gestured to his forehead, "and then in the nearby forest Soveliss and Vadania decided we could not be left alone in the greens." He chuckled.

"Because you don't leave people with torches alight in a green and luscious forest alone, that's why." Vadania retorted, placing a pot near the fire to cook her proverbial vegetable soup, "Especially when someone decides to try and cook roast wolf."

"It was an honest mistake." Harry groaned. "What did I know he was an animal companion?"

"The fact he did not attack you?" Vadania replied before sitting cross legged near the fire. "Or the fact he was carrying a basked with fruits in it?"

"I saw a wolf. The basket came later." He replied calmly, "Anyway don't interrupt me! As I was saying…Then, after Vadania and Soveliss joined us we met with a cursed poor guy named Regdar."

"I am _not_ cursed!" Regdar mumbled, "Just unlucky."

"Cursed." Jozan sagely nodded as he walked in. "The moment I find out which deity you pissed off so much, I'm going to finally prove you have a curse on you."

"Anyway! As I was saying." Harry kept on talking, "We walked for a good long deal around as a group, you know? Did quests, adventures and killed enemies, animals, aberrations, dragons…"

"_And in the black dragon's lair somebody met his fair_!" Gimble sing-sung, as Soveliss choked on his drink.

"I didn't meet my fair! She was a dragon for Corellon! A dragon!"

"You weren't thinking that at the time did you?" The Gnome remarked, "Oh Gimble please! Write me a poem of love!" The gnome snickered imitating the ranger's voice, "And then wham! We had to save you from your love right? What was it? _What big pointy teeth you have_?"

"Give me five minutes to finish _my_ story please." Harry sighed, a small grin on his lips as he rested his back against the comfortable armchair. Margaret brought him his pipe already lit, and as he thanked her he began to take small puff of the herbal tobacco Vadania made for him. It tasted nicely of vanilla and strawberry, and it did relax his headaches…especially when he was resting in his keep rather than outside fighting monsters.

"So there we go and defeat the dragon, and we find this iron bottle. The bottle holds an Efreet and you know how the rule goes: you can get wishes from them if you free them, but you _have_ to be careful. Efreet are naturally evil, so they always try and trick you out of your wishes. So I first asked for Soveliss and Regdar back to life because of course they both had to die there and then," he heard snorts but kept on talking, "And finally the Efreet told me he had only two more wishes, the lying bastard: so I knew I could go back home and be with my parents, my real parents that is, and thus I asked for my parents to be brought back to life." He whispered the last part.

"I still don't know if he did it or not, but he had lied to me about the number of wishes." He shook his head as he took a breath of smoke, before letting it out in a circle from his mouth. "Turns out that the last wish was what he needed to be free. Once freed…" His eyes went downcast, "He escaped from the cave of the dragon and began to bring havoc in the country. He burned villages and grabbed all the loot he could. Riches, gold, money…even the daughter of the king got kidnapped by him."

"And that's where _our_ Harry Potter, Thunder-Marked, got the quest that made him an Archduke." A tall and armored female entered the hall, carrying a shield on her back and showing a bright white smile. "And that's where I joined the company of the Thunder-Marked on its quest to right the wrongs of the world."

"Yes, yes." A female Halfling mumbled walking next to the paladin with her arms crossed, "And then of course you wouldn't have done anything without me afterwards. The greatest raid…ahem, explorer of all tombs: Lidda." The rogue winked as she flung a white colored pearl towards Harry. "For your collection!"

Harry caught the pearl deftly, before smiling back.

"Thanks Lidda. Has Krusk finished eating since I'm not hearing him?"

"He's down like a baby." The Halfling confirmed as she looked over at the completely knocked out half-orc, with the few remains of the roasted pork nearby.

"And that, my ducklings, tells the entire story of how I became what I am." Harry nodded to himself.

"And the boring part about Boccob and the wizard towers?" Mialee chuckled as she arrived at last, "You don't like to tell _that_ story do you?"

Harry frowned before shrugging. "It's about me reading books for years. I'm sure they can survive without knowing it."

"If you say so."

"Dad, can you tell us about the Nymph then?" Margaret asked, sitting down on his lap and batting her eyelashes. "I love that story!"

"No fair! What about the siege of Morhadhun!?" Kelvin exclaimed, "You haven't told that story in ages father!"

"We want to hear about the charge of the Defenders!" The dwarf twins muttered vividly.

"I want to know about the Manticore and the Sphinx and how you tricked them again," Deftfingers pointed out politely.

"And the fight with the Necromancer?" Henry asked.

"And what about the time you blew up that mine?" Fizzsprocket queried.

"No! I want to know about the…"

Harry groaned and took another mouthful of smoke. He enjoyed his family and his free time…but the headaches he had…

_Magical Britain – One day Later._

Lily Potter was looking at the Veil. James was standing close to his wife and holding her tightly. Albus was speaking with Cornelius Fudge and the Wizengamot members that were representing some of the major old houses. There was Lucius Malfoy standing like the ponce he was and talking to Fudge just as Dumbledore did the same. There were Amelia Bones and Augusta Longbottom looking over from the side, and there also were a few aurors. Even mad-eye Moody had been called back for this particular event, and a few Unspeakables were nervously circling the hall like vultures.

Perched atop the veil, the owl of Hogwarts stood in wait. The letter it held within its beak was something that no-one had managed to grab from it, and in the end it was decided to wait.

Suddenly, a gasp echoed through the room as everyone turned to look at the veil changing its color. From its normal surface it turned crystal clear, to reveal a courtyard. In front of the mirror stood an armed figure with a thick and big shield and a lance, and slowly ever so the figure moved forward. The lance passed through the mirror with ease, but as soon as it did the owl woke up and flew down.

The armored figure cursed in a strange tongue and tried to hit the owl, but it passed through and reached to the other side.

The figure went back in just as Lily tried to say something, and the mirror returned to its grey coloring.

"The owl went through!" Albus exclaimed, "Harry Potter is on the other side of the Veil then!"

"Together with whatever brutes there are…" Lucius drawled out, "Does that mean the veil is now walkable?"

"That's impossible…" Cornelius whispered in awe, "What about all those we condemned to death through it then? Are they still alive?"

"So he's with criminals then." Lucius smirked, "Maybe they…"

"Malfoy, you want to duel?" James snapped at the blond haired ponce. "I've got no qualms in solving your problems with a nice placed curse up your…"

_Thunder Keep, Edge of Absalom_

"An owl?" Mialee sarcastically commented as Harry grabbed the letter from the owl in question. "With a letter?"

"It's addressed to me." Harry replied with surprise, as he looked at what the letter said.

_To Archduke-Ollam Harry Potter._

_Thunder Keep, Edge of Absalom._

_Material Plane._

"It's a letter for…a Wizard school?" He muttered incredulously. "You know nothing about it, Mialee? Gimble? Jozan? Anyone heard of this Hogwarts?" He looked around to stare at the faces of the others, who looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking their heads.

"Thought so." He mumbled. "Still…Mialee, bring down the spell once more: I'll talk with them. If they're from…England, I'll know. The letter's written in English so…maybe I'm right. I hope I am." He whispered as he walked towards the mirror. "Launch Tongues and choose English Mialee! I'd better have a second one to hear if my own Tongues ends up with a second meaning." The elf woman nodded, and then moved closer herself.

Within seconds, the color returned crystal clear.

His eyes looked with surprise at the people on the other side. There was an old white bearded man who was looking at him with a strange twinkle in his teary eyes. A man with blond hair looking shocked just like the other man near him, and two persons closer to the mirror. One of them had red hair and green eyes, and was a woman, while the other had darker hair and a pair of glasses…and he looked eerily similar to him.

He took a deep breath before wielding his Bjorn in his right hand and nodding to Mialee, his face turning serious.

"If I'm not back in five minutes, send in the Krusk!" He half-heartedly laughed as Krusk punched his breastplate with a nod, while Soveliss held his bow ready to fling arrows.

"We've got your back Harry!" Vadania laughed, "Now stop being a pansy and go!"

With a nod and a smile, Harry James Potter walked through the mirror and landed in the veil room, Bjorn in hand as he looked at the surprised faces of the robed people near him.

Mialee walked next to him after a few seconds, her gnarled staff in hand as she pondered on the situation. The robed figures could be wizards or sorcerers, she'd have to launch an anti-magic zone…but she could use teleport without fault, and if worse came to worse she'd just get both her and Harry out of there and back in the mirror.

"Stay close to the mirror." Harry whispered to her, "We jump back in if they're hostile." Then, Harry coughed slightly.

"Somebody in here wrote me a letter?" He asked loudly, his eyes travelling around the room as he lifted with his free hand the envelope.

The dreadful silence would have made the sound of a fly loud. Nobody spoke for a second, before the sobbing and wailing of the red haired woman filled the air.

"Harry? Is that you?" The woman asked, walking slightly closer.

"Not another step!" Mialee exclaimed narrowing her eyes. "Answer the question first!"

"How rude!" Lucius muttered. "She has…pointed ears? Be careful minister! She's a monster!" As the blond haired man took out his wand, a sharp thunk was heard as an arrow embedded itself deeply into the shoulder of the Malfoy head. The man screamed as from behind the mirror Soveliss took a step forward.

"Someone else wants to make a strange move!? Come on! I've got arrows to spare!" He spoke in elven, his eyes narrowing. "We're surrounded, so I suggest we move backwards. Krusk is ready on the other side."

"Calm down! Lower your wands!" Dumbledore yelled to the wizards.

"Do as he say!" Amelia snapped, turning her head to the aurors who reluctantly obeyed.

"Would someone explain the letter, then?" Harry asked again carefully. "You are not making a good impression at the moment…are you a cabal?" He queried, "And where are we on the Material Plane?"

"My boy," Albus spoke hesitantly, as he took a slight step forward. "This is England. This isn't…"

"England?" He raised an eyebrow. "Prove it. Bring me Aunt Petunia, or Dudley, or Vernon Dursley."

"Harry…I'm your mother." Lily said with her throat choking from the emotion, "You're…You're my son."

"Did he ask for that woman?" Mialee snarled, "He asked for proof, not words! You are not the first to claim such a thing! Who wouldn't want to be the mother of the Archduke of Thunder Keep, second only to the King of Teren!? Bring proof or we will leave."

Soveliss slightly chuckled in elven. "Worrywart."

"Shut up you." Mialee snapped back. "Last time he was heartbroken."

"I can hear you two." Harry sighed, rolling his eyes. Mialee could be such a mother hen sometimes…

"Archduke?" Cornelius Fudge asked hesitantly, "King? Excuse me, but is there…a kingdom behind the veil?"

"Cornelius, let me go and get Harry's aunt," Albus spoke carefully, "It would be best not to keep him waiting. If they leave, we might not get another chance…Time seems different on the other side."

Cornelius nodded, and as Dumbledore disappeared Harry's eyes narrowed on the rest of the people present.

"What are your names?" Harry finally asked. "You seem to know me, but I do not know yours."

"Oh! I'm Cornelius Fudge, prime minister of the magical world!" Cornelius exclaimed, happily striding forward but stopping himself when Krusk and Regdar pushed their head through the mirror.

"Everything's all right Harry?" Regdar asked. "Five minutes have passed by now."

"Uh? Oh yes." He nodded, "Might be a sorcerer cabal with illusions. Right now I'm asking them about my aunt. I never described her to anyone so…"

With a loud crack, Albus Dumbledore was back together with a sour looking Petunia.

Harry held his breath. His green eyes looked with shock at the woman that he could only call Madam, because if he tried anything else he'd get to bed without food in the cupboard. He looked with shock at her, and at the portly man that was clearly uncle Vernon. He then set his gaze on the child near them that was Dudley in all but age. He nearly coughed on his own saliva as he nervously nodded.

"I think…I think this is England." He whispered with his throat hoarse from emotion.

Mialee looked warily from him to the rest of the people in the hall, and then seemed to nod to herself.

"All right." She said, "Now you," The wizard pointed at Petunia, "Tell us if she is his mother." She then pointed at Lily and Harry respectively.

Petunia paled at being called and gestured at, but she calmly nodded after a few moments spent looking at the man.

"Y…Yes. My…sister is…Harry's mother." She muttered out through clenched teeth. "Can we leave now?" She asked to Albus, who was about to nod when a loud noise interrupted them.

Harry had reached with his hand to Vernon's throat, and was seemingly lifting him up with ease.

"I am an Archduke of the King of Teren. My will is law along the Edges of the mountains of Absalom, my reign is prosper and my followers happy. I am not a good for nothing freak uncle, and may Boccob the Indifferent keep on reading, because if you'll ever dare think again what you are thinking now…I will kill your family, tear apart all that you possess and scatter your very own limbs in the four corner of the world before leaving you to beg and rot away in the deepest pits of the Abyss."

And then with an inhuman ease, Vernon Dursley was flung against the stone floor of the room.

"This is England." He finally exclaimed, "Now I want answers."

In the shocked silence that followed, Krusk decided to make his own opinion known by clapping.

Harry merely smiled. This was one of the reasons he loved having Krusk in his party. He always knew the right thing to say or do depending on the situation…half of the time. The other half he probably improvised with what he had.

"What was he thinking?" Mialee asked curiously, her staff poised to strike if the need arose.

"Nothing important, nothing important at all." He replied with a shrug.

"You cannot be serious!" Lucius yelled as the wound on his shoulder had been closed in the few minutes that had passed by. "I was attacked in here, by that creature! I demand her to be put down for…"

"The next arrow you fling Soveliss, you may aim for his throat." Harry pointed out nonchalantly. "I am sure they can change the bigot with another one."

"Now listen here…" Cornelius began hesitantly, "Lord Malfoy is…"

"Oh, he's a Lord?!" Harry exclaimed in surprise, jerking to the side to look at Lucius from head to toe. "Sorry. I didn't know that…well then…" He removed a satin glove from his pocket and walked forward with purpose. Before any could blink, Lucius Malfoy was slapped by said glove.

"Challenge I do thus you to duel, Lord. You have wronged my retinue and my followers for the last time." Harry spoke clearly. "Unless you wish to beg forgiveness?"

"Harry!" James exclaimed, having finally recovered his voice. "You can't fight Malfoy without a wand!"

"Why is that?" Mialee asked, curiously. "He killed a dragon with an axe. I'm sure he'll manage without a wand."

"He killed a what?" Lily mumbled shaking her head.

"A dragon…certainly you don't think he was made Archduke because of his good looks?" The elven wizard replied with the hint of a smirk. "Lord Malfoy is a dead man's walking. Unless he apologizes that is…"

"Please! Could we stop this and talk like rational persons?" Dumbledore asked, "This is an extraordinary meeting of different worlds, we should not have a war as a first thing."

"I'd listen to whitebeard over there." Mialee sagely nodded. "You're what? A dozen or two? I don't know you, but we've got an army in our keep and if you so much as touch a hair of our lord you won't get far with peace talks, let me tell you…He's next in the line of the throne after all, if he marries the damn girl."

"I'm not marrying the damn girl Mialee." Harry groaned, "Can you drop the argument? I'm in the middle of making history!"

"Gimble is going to have a field day when he hears about this." The female elf sighed.

"Krusk wants to break blond guy!" The half-orc exclaimed. "Can Krusk be champion!?"

"Did the charming good fellow say he'd greatly like peace talks?" Albus said pointing his gaze at the Half-Orc who was smiling widely.

"No, he actually asked to be my champion during the duel." Harry retorted. "But he wouldn't make it a quick death so I usually reserve him to my enemies." The dark haired man shrugged, "But you are right…We should talk rather than fight. For this time, I'll spare the blondie."

Harry walked down and towards the veil, "But there won't be another time. If you want to conduct negotiations, then please come over on your time. I'll have to warn my King about this."

And then, with a curt nod of the head, he walked back into the veil. Mialee entered last, but the veil no longer assumed the grey colored form that it usually held. It kept being crystal clear, and showing the courtyard of what was a probable Keep somewhere.

With a deep breath, Albus broke the silence.

"Well! The Boy-Who-Lived is fine!" The next moment, Lily Potter had dashed through the veil, soon followed by James Potter.

"Ah…Well…" Dumbledore nervously muttered, "Let's give the family some time?"

**Author's notes**

**Just had this plot idea in my head. Don't know if I'll follow through it but since I had this in the hard drive for a while…**


	2. Chapter 2

Harry Potter and the Realm of Dungeons and Dragons

The sky along the edges of the mountain range of Absalom was always clear turquoise or dark deep blue. There was only a light night sky during the darkest hours of winter, and yet within the keep itself the temperature never dropped below a warm spring day. Even the courtyard, the most exposed to the elements area, was not covered in snow unless Harry wished for it. Most of the time, he did not wish for it.

Sometimes his ducklings did pout long enough to get some snow in the courtyard, but only for an hour or two. Anymore and he highly doubted they'd hold off flinging snowballs at passerby, and considering his keep had a flourishing market just outside, he'd rather avoid getting called for one of his ducklings' misbehaviors. He was currently marching towards his planning room in the keep, together with Mialee who barely held ground with his great stride.

Soveliss was behind them, having left Kursk and Regdar to guard the portal to his world. His world. How funny that now that he had seen it, he didn't like it any longer. Well, no…It was more because he had expected something else. He had always wanted to go back and see his parents, but once he had seen them…he hadn't known what to say. As a kid he would have loved to be hugged by them at least once. As an adult, he no longer needed hugs or candies or birthday presents.

He had to write to the king, but going by himself would probably be better in quickening the entire ordeal; if only the old man didn't try every five seconds to convince him to marry his daughter…Not that Grace was a bad looking princess, but she had the very same verve and emotional span of a wall. A gracious wall covered with frescos maybe, but still a wall. He'd rather have a half-orc female, one of the many that Kursk insisted were his 'by right of conquest'. He shivered.

Kursk and his 'right of conquest' never boded well at all when they placed their heads together to try and get him a woman. Not that Soveliss was any different, only he at least had the grace of being subtle. Vadania merely pointed out she had circle friends who'd love to meet him, while Regdar just so casually mentioned about this or that girl that was, with his luck, an assassin undercover nine out of ten times.

It was actually a bit of an inside joke to send a group of paladin to any meeting Regdar suggested him to go. If he didn't know better he'd say the warrior was the best of the secret Nerull cultists, but he did indeed knew better: the warrior was simply cursed with bad luck.

That was without considering Gimble who practically knew every single woman on the face of his reign, and he actually thanked Boccob that gnomes couldn't breed with non-gnomes. He'd be invaded by small Gimbles in less than a fortnight otherwise. He had already sent a servant to call his quartermaster and the commander in charge of his men, when he realized someone had been following him all the way to the strategy room of his keep.

That was barring Mialee, of course. He turned around with the most neutral face he could envision, and within mere seconds he was engulfed in a hug. Awkwardly, he looked with pleading eyes towards Mialee who merely raised an inquiring eyebrow but said nothing. The room they were in was tastefully furnished with a big round table, a map of the Material Plane standing within its confines. Few windows gave little light but a much needed change of air, while Everburning torches provided what was truly needed to see in the room.

Out of all the chairs present, one was slightly higher than the others, signaling it was the chair of the Archduke himself.

Harry coughed as the red haired woman began to sob on his chest. He wasn't really good on the emotion display of things. Well, not with an adult woman who actually was his mother. Those who faked being his mother were easily dealt with after all: it was the real deal that was giving him problems in that moment.

He had faced dragons. He was thirty-one years old. He could face a woman whom he should have been calling 'mum'…with no qualms. The hug did feel nice though. He admitted as much as he grabbed both of the woman's shoulder with his arm and slowly, but firmly, got her off him.

"I am terribly sorry if it sounds rude," he began carefully, "But I simply must report to my liege about this. He must know of this as soon as possible."

"Ah…yes." James Potter nervously admitted, "You said you were an Archduke, right? You know we Potters actually are lords too…maybe Counts or Barons…Purebloods of wizardry society and…"

"Wizardry society?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow in perplexity. "You teach magic only to the nobles?"

"Uh? Oh no! Whoever knows magic can learn it! Hogwarts has this fund for needy wizards and witches and muggle-born wizards can learn too!" James replied quickly.

"Muggle-born?" He asked perplexed. What was it with the term? Did the Tongue spell start to deteriorate?

"Oh, well…Muggles are people who can't use magic." James replied.

"Ah. Why?" Harry asked, carefully giving a worried glance towards Mialee, who slowly began to walk closer to him.

"Because…they can't?" The man said with a shrug, "They can't use wands. Sometimes a child is born from two wizardry parents as a Squib and sometimes a wizard is born from two muggles."

"I'm a muggle-born," Lily said hesitantly, "While James' parents were both wizards."

"Is there by any chance fire and brimstone involved when you cast your spells?" The Archduke asked, his hand slowly going to his holy water flask. He also had a cursed water one, just in case, but in any event…

"Why the sour look?" James found himself asking, "It's like you've seen something bad. You aren't a believer that only nobles should learn magic, right?" The Potter Head was now wary, but Harry merely shook his head.

"No. Knowledge should be free and unbound. All should be able to learn all they wish, for that is the will of Boccob, Archmage of the Gods." He replied with ease with one of the beliefs of the god he worshipped. "Well, you are positively sure there aren't, you know…evil names associated with doing magic?"

"Harry, just ask them outright." Mialee sighed, "You're walking in circles around the problem."

"Is there…something wrong?" Lily asked worriedly, as Harry took a deep breath before answering.

"You're perchance…Warlocks? Or devil-spawned sorcerers?"

James and Lily both blinked at the question, before the head of the house of Potter replied.

"Well…Wizards and Warlocks are the same thing…"

"Bull." Mialee snorted. "If a wizard and a warlock were the same thing there wouldn't be a bounty on all warlocks around Absalom."

"A…bounty?" Lily's hand went to her neck as she slightly paled. She then accusingly looked towards her son, before whispering, "If…If we were warlocks…you would still deliver us to your king? We're your parents!"

"I didn't say that, did I?" He replied with a snort. "I'm not like that ponce on the other side who prances around like he owns the place. You come from another world entirely. Here warlocks are hunted down because they invariably degenerate and descend into madness, and with their eldritch powers they are a menace for all those that surround them." He bitterly smiled, "It's not as if I like doing it."

"Ahem." A rough looking voice coughed, entering the room. A deeply scarred man in his late fifties had entered the room, soon followed by a meeker looking and far smaller gnome. The man held grey buzz-cut hair and seemed to have been a warrior in his youth, while the gnome had bright green hair and deep violet eyes and looked as if he had had an accident with the washing considering how colored his clothes were.

"My lord, who are these?" The ruff voice practically growled threateningly as he eyed with distrust Harry's parents. "Should I be worried about the larder now?" He added.

"Alaric, there is no need." Harry replied shaking his head, "I have yet to ask if they wish to stay for supper." He turned his head to look at his parents, "Would you like to remain for supper?"

"Yes!" Lily exclaimed with maybe a bit more of excitement than normal, beaming a smile. "We'd like that."

James chuckled before nodding too. "We have a lot to catch up, right?"

Harry nodded back at Alaric, since the man had probably no idea what the two English persons had said.

"I suppose I won't have to dip in the food reserves," Alaric grumbled, crossing his arms, "As your quartermaster though, next time you have more people around tell me! I'll have to check the stocks again! And if I get my hands on Kursk while he does a night stroll to the larder…argh." The man mumbled while clenching his hands tightly. "Was I needed for something else, my lord?" He added after a moment.

"Yes. Have fresh horses prepared. Mialee will prepare a circle of teleportation soon, then I and Regdar will meet with the king at the capital. Vadania has already forewarned them of our arrival by now." Harry replied thoughtfully, "And if she hasn't then she isn't as much of a chatterbox as I thought her to be."

"She's my cousin, you know." Soveliss pointed out from within the shadows, where had hidden himself with his bow still in hand, but apparently putting it back on his shoulder.

"Was he…aiming at us all this time?" James found himself regretting having asked the question, looking shocked at both the pointed ears man and then at his son.

"Of course he was." Harry replied with a straight face. "You have no idea how many thousands of assassins I have to stave off," the boy snorted, "And the doppelgangers are the worse of the lot."

"The mind readers too." Mialee quietly said, shaking her head slowly.

"Wh…What? Why? What did you do to them?" James asked perplexed, "I mean…How?"

"I'm an Archduke-Ollam." Harry carefully said, "Ollam is a title of great respect the dwarven kind gives to its teachers. It means 'one who knows the stone' and to be a human and possess it, one has to have done truly great deeds for Dwarf-kind."

"And you can't do great deeds without making enemies." Mialee added, before gesturing to Soveliss who walked forward, moving towards the door.

"Do you want me to escort them to the guest rooms?" The elf asked Harry with his gaze pointed to the man's parents. Since Harry was going to speak with the sergeant-at-arms of his keep, it was highly possible he didn't want 'strangers' hearing him out…even if the tongue was completely different.

"If you'd be so kind," Harry replied with a small smile. He then turned to his parents, "Can you follow Soveliss? He'll bring you to your guest rooms while I talk with my sergeant-at-arms." He actually didn't think there was a need for it, considering the language barrier…but better safe than sorry.

"Him?" James asked bewildered, looking at the small and feeble gnome that seemed to be wearing clown clothes.

"Yes." Harry replied curtly, "Nimble is the sergeant at arms of the keep, and he has served me well for years."

James and Lily both winced at the tone of accusation, as if Harry dared them to say anything against the gnome again. They both sheepishly averted their gaze and followed Soveliss outside, leaving Harry to take a deep breath before looking pleadingly to Nimble.

"Did you have to come dressed like that?" The gnome morphed, slowly but surely increasing its size until it became as tall as Harry, its skin paling and turning milky white.

"Would you have preferred me as myself?" The Doppelganger commented humorously, "Even after the wizard's words on assassins after you belonging to my race?"

"You had to choose a gnome of all things." Harry sulked back crossing his arms, "A minotaur would have been a nice thing. Heck, a half-dragon even."

"Wanting to show-off to your parents your things?" Mialee suddenly cooed, "What a nice, cute and little baby you are!"

"Old bat." Harry snapped back at the elven wizards.

"Young toddler." Mialee stiffened as she curled her lips in disgust.

"Ancient crone." He smiled.

"Milk drinker." She calmly made a gesture to polish her shoulders, as if she was just warming up.

"Elder oak." He looked at his nails as if the thing bored him.

"Wetting babe."

"Love is in the air…" Nimble sang, "And it's a wonderful day to be elsewhere." The creature seemingly decided as he took a step backwards, somehow wilting under the glares. "I've already got the news from Regdar: I'll be placing the usual regiment to keep an eye out on the mirror and who comes and goes."

With a nod from Harry, the doppelganger assumed the form of the multicolored gnome and hopped away, leaving the archduke and the wizard to look at one another.

"What's gotten into you now?" He asked her in elven.

"You know…all this." She muttered. "They're your parents but…in term of age you're older than them. I mean: I just don't want to see you heartbroken again."

"I'm not a kid Mialee." He replied rolling his eyes. "I'm an adult."

"You were twenty-three when you suffered from a breaking heart." The wizard pointed out, shaking her head slowly, "I'm not going to tell you how to live your life but…I'd rather remember you by as a smiling human rather than a crying one."

"Sentimental are we? What is it, elven menopause?" He half joked.

"Yeah, something like that." Mialee actually replied sadly, turning to leave. "Well…I'll be going to inscribe the circle then. The sooner we do this, the better."

Harry didn't reply as the elf left the room. He didn't know what to say, and thus he said nothing. He was always unable to solve the troubles of females…and he knew better than to try.

_Magical World_

The Wizengamot was in full session. The wizards were noisily making screams and noises and exclamations about how the veil was a portal to another world and about the 'monsters' that lurked behind it. The fact that the savior of their world was on the other side meant nothing, when it came down to the chance that the criminals they had judged guilty could still be alive on the other side of the veil. If this was the case, then the Wizengamot had no idea on how to proceed.

A lot of Death Eaters and ancient family that had followed Voldemort, and that had been condemned to pass through the veil as a sentence might still have descendants, and those would be entitled a seat and their proprieties restored. Even worse was the problem on how to treat their nobility ranks. What if their king was not magical? What about their statute of secrecy considering some didn't appear to possess magic and instead were monsters with pointy ears or sharp teeth?

"We have stationed guards just like Harry Potter has done on the other side," Albus began to explain to the Wizengamot. "There is nothing to fear. The other side leads into a well-defended courtyard of Archduke Potter's keep. We will not be invaded by monsters. There is…"

"With all due respect Supreme Mugwump," Lucius drawled, "How can we be sure that man is who he claims to be? He is considerably older than what we expected, and he might just be a fake trying to lull us into a false sense of security."

A chorus of affirmative replies and exclamations came from Lucius' followers, as another woman replied.

"Yeah! We shouldn't believe in him just because he looks like the Potters' brat!" Mister Goyle remarked with a snort. "Afraid your golden boy kicked the bucket, so you're sending us a spare?"

"That is preposterous!" Augusta Longbottom snapped, "Minister Fudge was there too! He can confirm together with Madam Bones and I that there were no signs of polyjuiced or other spells to alter appearances."

"And we should believe that?" Lucius pointed out. "We should call for the Unspeakables to go through the veil and check what is on the other side."

"You would send armed men on the other side?" Albus asked carefully, "Are you sure you wish to start a war, Lucius?"

There was silence as the rhetoric question of the Headmaster of Hogwarts was thought over. The last war had been fought against Gellert Grindelwald, since Voldemort had been more of a terrorist and his reign had been a civil war so to speak of. There was nothing else to say after his words. The Wizengamot quietly mumbled among its peers in renowned small murmurs, before finally delivering its verdict.

They'd have to warn the prime minister of England about this.

_Material Plane, Thunder Keep._

James and Lily Potter were worriedly sitting on one of the wooden benches near the long table. They were looking with a bit of curiosity but mostly with surprise at the numbers of people invited to dine at Harry's dinner. James had thought that since Harry was an archduke, he'd be at the very least a bit brattish or arrogant, but till then nothing had happened, and he had begun to think that nothing would. The boy was the perfect example of Noblesse Oblige: calm, collected and poised. At the same time he was a down to earth individual, if the way he was removing a smudge from the face of a child near him was of any indication.

That was another thing that shocked him and Lily. Apparently Harry had children, and not just one or two. None were his, and yet he did seem to love them dearly. James raised an eyebrow a bit as he saw his son bring on his lap one of the waitresses, and gently whisper sweet nothings to her ear. He did that in front of the children no less! Luckily they were more than busy asking questions towards Lily, who was trying her best to answer them. Some questions were easy to answer, but others instead were of a delicate nature.

The fact there apparently existed a type of magic that granted the knowledge of a tongue with such ease astonished the Potter: even with the use of Occlumency and a Pensieve, it usually took months to learn a language. Instead with just a spell children could immediately start talking and understanding English as if it were their mother tongue.

"Are you going to take father away?" One of the small looking children, a gnome as he had been told, asked with a trembling lip. Lily had slowly looked downwards and then shook her head. Had it been a different, younger Harry…they had expected to hug their eleven year old child, not their thirty-one year old one. How could they now ask anything of him? They were his parents, but he was an adult now, a successful one at that and so…

The problem was how he was going to take the rest of the news.

"Harry, can we speak in private for a moment, please?" He hesitantly asked as he saw the waitress stand up again and move to leave.

"I have no secrets for my ducklings." Harry replied. "I've found out that children are natural judges of character. As long as they are treated fairly they will answer with fairness in return."

"The thing is…my question is a bit personal." James hesitated, looking towards Lily who merely grabbed his hand and looked at him, nudging him forward with but her clear green eyes.

"Speak freely." He muttered back rolling his eyes. "I hold no secrets neither to my comrades nor to my children so it would change nothing speaking in private or not."

"Time here flows differently, right?" James asked carefully. "It's faster here than in England. So…are you going to come back?"

He raised an eyebrow. A small bitter smile formed on the man's lips before he shook his head slowly. James felt Lily's hand tighten around his as the woman displayed a sad face.

"I belong here." He replied carefully. "While I might come to your world for peace talks as an ambassador…I would never remain long."

"I…I see," James muttered. "Well, I don't know what to say." The man admitted. "Do you know who brought us back to life?"

"Yes." Harry admitted, "I'm responsible for that." He sighed. "It's my greatest shame."

"What?" Lily asked bewildered. "Your…shame? Why?"

"Because everything has a price." Harry retorted, "Had I not brought you back, then many families would still have all of their members. Many villages would not have burned down, and many things would have gone differently…in the end, I can't come to term with it. Are two lives worth three hundred?"

"W…What did you do to bring us back?" James asked, suddenly disquieted.

"I made a wish." Harry chuckled. "A wish to an Efreet. A creature that if trapped can be freed in exchange for wishes…a genie in a lamp, only wicked and evil."

"And he can bring back the dead?"

"Of course he can." Harry rolled his eyes. "Magic can do that and much more."

"That's extremely dark magic." Lily gasped, "Harry, you haven't…"

"Uhm? Resurrecting people isn't dark magic." The Archduke offhandedly remarked. "Prolonging one's life unnaturally by becoming a Lich or a Demilich, that is evil." He nodded, "But resurrection? Heck, I lost count of the times we brought Regdar back to life."

"I haven't." Jozan commented, "The great Pelor is starting to tire. He has begun to chat up with Regdar to offer him a place permanently on the other side if he stops coming and going."

"Now you're joking." Harry deadpanned.

"That's what my god says." The contemplative remarked, "And my connection to his thoughts and will is greater than yours."

"We are not comparing the size of each other's holy symbols guys!" Lidda yelled as she jumped up and landed on Jozan's shoulders. "So…anything precious on the other side of the mirror? Any…trouble to be solved?"

"Trouble?" James frowned.

"Like dragons to be killed." Harry remarked, "Or necromancers to be stopped."

"Like Drows assaults on the Dwarven homes, or Duergars uprisings." Lidda pointed out.

"Like evil cults of evil gods poisoning the wells of cities." Jozan straightened up, "They would need the cleansing fire of the great Pelor after all."

"You said evil twice, somebody's fired up?" Gimble remarked chuckling as he made his way over from the other side of the table to where the rest of the group stood.

"An all new world Gimble! How can you not be excited!?" Jozan remarked, "Think about how we can convert it to the might of the good gods! It could tip the balance of power drastically in their favor!"

"Or against them." Regdar remarked, "Think Jozan…what if there were heretics on the other side? What if their morals were so wrong and tainted that they'd follow the darker gods rather than the good ones?"

"Then, by the might of Pelor, we'd have to purify them!" Jozan bellowed with his fist crashing on the wooden surface of the table.

"Calm your crusader spirit my friend!" Regdar immediately said raising his arms to gesture for the cleric to cool down. "Mine was just a stray thought. Don't get worked up on that."

"Are there…religion wars here?" James asked carefully as he looked back at his son who seemed to be thinking about it for a moment, before nodding.

"Yes. The good gods and the evil gods fight each other indirectly through the use of their faithful, while the neutral gods do what they wish."

"So Pelor is a good god? Just like Boccob?" Lily asked tentatively, "and…they're…real?"

"Of course they are!" Jozan yelled, "Gods not real? Why wouldn't they!? Who'd be so stupid to follow something that doesn't show up when you pray for it!?"

"We…well," Lily chuckled nervously, "We have religions with different gods too…but they don't show up if we pray."

"Are you mad?" Jozan finally found himself asking after a few minutes of quiet, "No, really? You pray something that doesn't come around to even show himself? Here! Let me give you this pamphlet on the grace of Pelor…" A thick leather bound tome found its way from Jozan's hands to Lily's. "Have a nice read and understand the grace of Pelor as the god of the sun and healing."

"And here our crusader goes." Vadania muttered entering the room, "Harry! The king's waiting for you! Where do you think you're going dressed like that!?"

Harry rolled his eyes as he stood up. He was wearing his usual adventurer's clothes, and he felt perfectly comfortable in those. Regdar soon followed, standing silently behind him.

"To meet the king of course; come on, I helped him back on the throne: I doubt he became a stickler for dressing codes since then." The man replied with a shrug, bidding goodbye to the dining hall as he left.

"He did what?" James mouthed as Harry left.

"There was a try at a revolution a few years ago." Gimble spoke carefully, plucking a few chords. "They got the palace and kidnapped the princess, again I might add…" The gnome snickered, "And he went in and got it all back for the king."

"What did our son Harry do?" Lily suddenly found herself asking the small creature, whose eyes shone for a moment as the rest of the room groaned.

"_I'm glad you asked! For this I am tasked!"_ The gnome jumped on the table, mandolin in hand as he began to sing.

"_The tail I will spin, of the Archduke and the king!_

_Sit and be quiet, for young is the night,_

_Listen carefully and hear me right,_

_For this tale begins within grim mountains,_

_Where crystal clear fountains,_

_Are harbor of aberrations,_

_And pits of mutation." _The voice turned a bit grim as it kept on going.

"_In the depths of the darkness a betrayer mourned,_

_In the deepest of the pits, a devil screamed spurned,_

_Together the two plotted._

_Together the two the kingdom besotted._

_The whispers became howls,_

_The stares became scowls._

_An army was raised, an enemy was praised._

_A force was gathered, a war was battled._

_There stood the chosen of Pelor, Jozan the devoted,_

_Next to him was the mighty Kursk, barbarian most noted._

_Side by side stood Regdar the fighter, and Vadania the zealant,_

_Next was Mialee the gracious and Soveliss the atrocious,"_ Here Gimble avoided an arrow flung by Soveliss, that landed between the gnome's feet.

"_Gimble the bard, oh my, he watched from afar,_

_Next to Lidda the scout and Alhandra the proud._

_The army then met! They clashed and beset!_

_With his Bjorn that means axe,_

_The Archduke Harry fought off the attacks._

_Magic he parried and steel he fought,_

_Into the enemy, both were quickly returned!_

_Then at once there stood the leader, of the enemy army!"_

Gimble screamed that as if afraid, jumping from side to side as the children looked at him in awe. Even Lily had to admit she was getting enraptured by the tale.

"_He was a wizard, but he also was barmy._

_He wished to command undead and demons all._

_He sought thus only, to make us to thrall._

_They met on the battlefield and here I must admit,_

_I thought to myself, that maybe I should quit._

_Wounded and torn, the limbs of the Archduke suffered,_

_By the might of the magic that the barmy mage inferred."_

James unconsciously held Lily closer as the woman gasped in fright bringing both her hands to her mouth. She had tears in her eyes at the thought of just what pain Harry had to have gone through.

"_And yet as he lay there lost, a voice was heard!_

_Worry not! Fear not! For against the gods, fight he cannot!_

_Chosen of Boccob, chosen of fate, stand up high and defend the gate!_

_And stand he did and fight he did too!_

_And in the end the mage lay defeated by you know who!_

_The Archduke Potter fought and won,_

_And the next day the hand of the princess he had earned!_

_But refused he did graciously so, for another…"_

Kursk axe neatly cut the table in two, sending Gimble to tumble on the ground, if Soveliss hadn't been extremely quick in flinging his arrows and pinning by the clothes the bard against the wall. Before Gimble could protest, Mialee silenced the pestering gnome and took a deep breath of relief.

"The story is done. Time to go to sleep ducklings." Mialee muttered, snapping her finger as ethereal cohorts rose from the ground to gently push the kids to their beds and tuck them in.

"It…It didn't sound finished." James pointed out.

"It's not our tale to sing…and Gimble, didn't Harry tell you to remove the last bit?" The elf wizard asked the gnome, who sheepishly scratched the back of his head.

"Art should not be censored!" The gnome exclaimed indignantly.

"No, but gnomes can be purged." Soveliss remarked in a low murmur, just so casually playing with an arrow and the string of his bow.

"All right. All right!" Gimble muttered, swiftly unpinning himself from the arrows.

"I'll bring the guests to their chambers."

_King's Palace_

"Archduke." The king boomed with a bright smile and a portly laugh. "How nice to see you." Brocades and fine vests surrounded them like sharks pooling to strike at the bleeding man in the water. Half of the court was there to try and give their daughters to Harry; the other half was planning his death.

Regdar stood a bit behind the archduke, standing straight and in wait for the mean of assassination the enemies of Harry would use this time around. The human warrior had seen death so many times he had grown bored and accustomed to it. So much so that the dark lady actually took her time and appeared by his side every now and then to enjoy in pleasant chats.

He knew no normal man was meant to see death, but in his case he had received a permission slip from Pelor. Something about checking in and out over a hundred times.

"And so I claimed the soul of this war chief, you know? And then they began killing one another," Death said, trying a saucy smile as she showed just a bit more of pale blue flesh of her cleavage. Whether she was actually flirting or not, he knew better than to rise to the bait.

"It left me all hot and bothered, to see all that blood and well, _me_ all around."

Regdar hummed back, but said nothing as he saw the king speak excitedly with Harry. He began to count. Five minutes had gone by and Harry had already begun to shake his head, his voice slowly cracking up. Ten minutes and the two were already at each other's throats, roaring about nights spent drinking meads, bills to be paid in dingy corners and bastards sired and kept hidden.

"And that time with the dragon! Come on! You can't be serious…"

"And what of when you failed in bringing back the brocades unscathed!?"

"THEY WERE IN THE NEST OF AN OTYUGH FOR FUCKS' SAKE!"

"THAT'S NOT AN EXCUSE!"

The noble of the court were already distastefully turning their gazes elsewhere, speaking among themselves as the two kept on reaching an all new level of yelling.

Finally he saw Death prepare herself to strike, and just not to go against routine her scythe was posed to strike at him.

"See you soon." Regdar sighed. He began to charge. One of the nobles soon emerged from the crowd, his hands holding on to a flintlock pistol.

"No swine should stay on the throne!" The man roared firing the shot. The bullet flew, but Regdar's shield was already there, taking the hit. The guards arrived quickly, and brought down the noble with haste.

"This treachery! Really, I must say…"

"Regdar's still alive." Harry pointed out calmly, "It's not over yet."

"Now listen here," Regdar began slightly angered, "It's not like I have to die to reach the final…"

Twenty-seven arrows coated in a mixture of poisons and drugs struck the warrior on the back.

"Of course." Soul-Regdar muttered half-whining. "Of course he had to bring me bad luck!" Death cooed him upstairs, to meet Heironeus. The God of Valor would offer him a seat as always, and then they'd wait for Pelor to come around and bring him back.

He really hated politics.

_Wizengamot_

"A delegation from The Material Plane is coming through." One of the unspeakable spoke to the Wizengamot assembled, and not a moment too soon Harry Potter walked into the halls of the ministry, five rod-wielding men on his right and five staff-wielding men on his left. Behind them stood four armored men wearing holy symbols of Boccob, Heironeus, Pelor and the last one being of Obad-Hai.

The wizards in the last rows brought their neck up as much as possible, to try and glimpse at the small army that had walked in. Fifteen men were a bit too much for a simple peace talk, but not too many to think they were here to invade. At least, fifteen wizards wouldn't stand a chance against the entire Wizengamot.

Dumbledore was there too, looking with a mixture of surprise at the scene unfolding. He wondered where the Potters were, since only their son had apparently walked through.

"We will keep this short." Harry began calmly, his voice oozing all the confidence that Dumbledore not only expected of the chosen one, but also of a true hero of the light.

"My liege has decided to make the following men his line of contact with your ruling government. These men are all scholars and professors of their own right, researchers and wielder of the Arcane Arts as well as pious men of the Divine and believer of gods of Valor, Healing, Knowledge and Equilibrium. My king also insisted upon…this," he waved the Hogwarts' letter, making Dumbledore's heart soar as the old wizard mentally began to chant 'Yes! Yes! Take that Voldemort! Take that! We have Potter! We have Potter!' "To be taken into consideration."

"You speak of the…faithful, as if they were akin to wizards." Lucius Malfoy commented, "Are they wizards too?"

"Define Wizard." One of the staff-wielding men sharply retorted, a long white beard whipped around his waist. "All of us can cast spells." He gestured to everyone. "We study them." Pointing at him and the other staff-wielders, "They harness them from their souls." Pointing towards the rod-wielders, "And those guys pray."

"Always the sweet talker Archibald." One of the 'faithful' replied rolling his eyes. "I am Lertus Sanor, cleric of Obad-Hai, god of Equilibrium. We pray to our gods and receive their blessings back." He added calmly.

"Gods? And what blessings do these gods give?" Lucius asked a bad gleam in his eyes.

"That depends on the god." Lertus replied calmly, "but those of wicked soul cannot expect heaven beyond death. The nine layers of Baator or the ever-changing abyss awaits those who wicked go to their deaths and beyond."

"And the unfaithful shall spend eternity being molded into the walls of the city of Sigil, the city ruled by the Lady of Pain, she who cannot be bested." Archibald retorted with a light 'whining' tone that was all sarcasm. "Yes, we get it, now sod off."

"Ahem." Cornelius Fudge coughed, "Is it correct to assume we can send our own ambassadors?"

"Yes." Harry replied with a nod. "Fifteen for fifteen."

"Well, that is a thoughtful thing." Cornelius mumbled, "I'll have the rooms prepared then."

"We'll just need a closet or a cupboard." One of the wizards commented.

"Yes, but I'm the one who casts the spell."

"Oh no you don't! Last time we ended up sleeping in a damn wooden hut!"

"I'd rather take Percival's Mordenkainen's mansion rather than Ulfric's."

"What do you know! You just don't like the way I furnish the rooms right!?"

"Men, men, stop bickering before I decide to axe you all." Harry finally relented, his hand gently rubbing the handle of his Bjok. His smile silenced the bickering ambassadors, who took back their serious appearance.

"They're weird these…wizards." Crabbe senior whispered to Goyle senior up in their seats.

"I think we might have boar stew tonight." Goyle senior replied in another low murmur.

"Didn't you hear what I said? Why do you always have to talk about dinner with boar? I get it: you like to eat, now think with your head rather than your stomach." Crabbe senior rolled his eyes.

"But I'm hungry." Goyle senior whined.

"Then start packing carrots! Those are healthy at least!" Crabbe senior hissed between his teeth.

"All right!" Harry finally exclaimed, his hands clapping together. "Since we have a deal now, Mister Dumbledore? When am I expected for class?"

"Well, Archduke Potter," Albus began standing up, and walking out of his seat to meet with the man in person. "I think we can have you a bit sooner perhaps? So we can show you the school and decide where to put you. Magic works differently, but nothing should prohibit you from learning our own. You would be a real bridge between worlds."

"Time moves differently between our worlds, Mister Dumbledore." Harry replied, "Everything happens seven times faster in the Material Plane than here: one year here would be seven years there. One minute here is seven minutes there. One hour here…would be seven hours there. One day becomes a week, a week becomes a month and half, a month is nearly a year…and I need not tell you that some do have families on the other side."

"I see," Dumbledore smiled gently, "your king demands much from you."

"I live to serve." He replied calmly, "But I do not serve to live." He added as an afterthought. "It is a dwarven saying: if you have to prostrate yourself to live, then you are not living."

"I think these dwarves have the right ideas." Albus' eyes twinkled.

"I want to ask: is your king magical?" Lucius Malfoy's question broke the small chatter through the Wizengamot halls, "If he is not, then what is your statute of secrecy like?"

"Statute of secrecy?" Harry brought an eyebrow in surprise. "And what is that, pray tell?"

"You don't have a statute of secrecy!?" Cornelius Fudge exclaimed in surprise, "Surely you can't tell me everyone knows magic exists in your world!"

"Of course they all know!" Archibald suddenly screamed in, "Why should we keep it a secret!? Magic can be learned by anyone who wishes to apply themselves! See!? I theorized sorcerers-led societies would be backwater countries!"

"You take that back Archibald, or I'll show you what the power of a sorcerer is!" One of the rod wielding men yelled back, as thick bronze scales began to erupt from his skin.

"Calm down, you lot calm down." Lertus interrupted. "Don't force me to _Calm Emotions_, we can discuss this diplomatically."

"Diplomacy? All right. I'll give you _Diplomacy_." One of the sorcerers suddenly smiled wide. Harry narrowed his eyes as the man whistled a tune. The next moment…

He didn't know why everyone had suddenly decided it was a great idea, but he was sure someone had used Glibness. Albeit the culprit had most astutely declared his innocence the moment he still had the spell on, he knew someone had to have done it.

It took a few hours to settle everything down on paper, but in the end it was decided that one side would keep the statute and the other wouldn't, and that the muggle government would be notified of their arrival by each of the government's magical branches. That business concluded, the ambassadors would be 'shipped' off to different countries in the world.

Harry was just thankful nobody had tried to use Dominate Person or Hypnotic Weave on the Wizengamot.

Or tried to turn them into sheep.

Or conjured a Dragon.

Or a genie.

Or a Tarrasque.

The last time he had made diplomatic talk with the Halflings, someone had the smart idea of giving caffeine to one of the half-sized pints. The end results were not pretty, especially because a naked Kursk was not at all as embarrassed as he should be, and an overexcited Halfling cleric of Yondalla was not as prudish as she was supposed to be.

He still had mental traumas.

Really heavy mental traumas.

He did crack a smile when he finally walked through the veil, back home. The smile faded when he realized what time it was. The time problem was something that had to be solved. It wasn't possible for such a difference of time to be kept. It just couldn't work.

He nodded and acknowledged the salutes of his troops, as he made his way towards his rooms. Outside the sun was high in the sky, and yet he felt drowsy and sleepy with good reason.

He yawned as he finally reached his rooms. A small window barely enough for light to seep through and a massive bed with satin covers, taken from a bandit camp his group and him had cleaned once. He removed his armor slowly, before crawling his way into bed and falling asleep like a rock.

The next moment, a shadow emerged from the corner of the room and slowly began to creep towards him.

The cold black tendrils of death moved closer and closer, and just as they were about to touch him he opened one eye, staring into the red ones of the creature and whispered a single harsh word.

"_**Rebuke**__."_

The shadow nodded, and slowly slid deep beneath the floor.

**Author's notes**

**Decided to continue it. At the moment it's just one more chapter. Not to be taken seriously or with ultra-extreme plots. This is an extremely 'mind relaxing' thing, so don't expect treacheries or backstabbing or whatever. **


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